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eyes fell on her the heat seeped up
from her belly into her chest, neck and face. She hated being this
attracted to him. It was ridiculous. He was just a man, for
Christ’s sake.
    His hands pulled at his belt and she realized
he’d caught her staring. With a self-satisfied smile he nodded to
the bed. “What does the Sheriff need tonight?”
    His accent, good Lord and fuck that
accent was a whole different level.
    “No talking,” she requested. “That’s what the
Sheriff needs.”
    He cocked on eyebrow but the smile stayed
put. “Yes ma’am.”
    Only he could make the word ma’am hot.
    She crossed the room and pulled her shirt
off. His eyes were on her as she did it, and as he dropped his
jeans the sight of his erection set off a female surge of triumph.
In her panties she climbed onto the bed, pulling her hair over her
shoulder as she went up on all fours.
    His hands were on her hips, pulling her
underwear down to her knees but not off. His rough palms skimmed
along the backs of her thighs, then one of them ran up the center
of her back and pushed down between her shoulder blades. She
lowered her chest to the bed, the anticipation heady. One might
think she craved control in this situation, but it wasn’t true. She
really preferred to just be fucked by someone who knew how to do it
right. He never begged her to handcuff him to the bed, or ride him
wearing her uniform shirt. No, in bed she was just another woman.
And that was fine with her.
    His other hand slid between her legs, along
her wet opening. She gasped, burying her face in the sheets. Her
heart was hammering with want.
    “So wet,” he mumbled, fingers rubbing into
her with great skill. She bit her lip so as not to whimper. “Is
that for me?”
    His finger slipped down to her clit, circling
it, slick and warm. She closed her eyes, refusing to make
noise.
    “Must be,” he was saying as she heard him
rustling in his clothes. Then there was the sound of a foil package
tearing, and still that finger circled her, agonizingly tender.
“You’re one naughty bitch, Sharon.”
    He didn’t call her Sheriff, either. That
earned points.
    His blunt head was nudging into her, slow.
Too fucking slow. She pushed back against him but his hand on her
back pushed down harder. “You’ll take it as I give it.”
    Again she had to bite her lip. She’d never
liked dirty talking until Fritter.
    When he was all the way inside, filling and
stretching her, he remained still. She was trying to move but that
hand on her back was firm.
    “I like watchin’ you squirm. Keep doin’
it.”
    She stilled immediately and that made him
chuckle.
    “All right then,” he mumbled, both hands
going to her hips. “I’m goin’ to make you scream once, you know.
It’ll happen eventually.”
    She squeezed her eyes shut again, then he
pulled free of her and slammed his erection home swiftly, making
her gasp before she could bury it in the mattress. Then he did it
again, harder.
    The sheets rolled as her hands clutched at
them, desperate for something to hold onto. Eventually his pace hit
the point where she was climbing, a hot pressure behind her
bellybutton growing uncomfortable. It needed to release but she
held on, knowing the longer she waited the better the
sensation.
    “Fuck,” he muttered, hands leaving her hips
momentarily. Before she could track it he grasped the edges of her
underwear, still at her knees, tearing the seams on each side with
one motion.
    That made her cry out, but before she could
say anything his weight was lowering onto her, and her stomach met
the mattress while he still thrust into her. She arched her back,
trying to ignore the heat of his skin on hers. Her hair was yanked,
arching her head back, and his mouth went to the side of her neck,
teeth nipping her slightly.
    That sent her over the edge, tumbling into
ecstasy with her teeth digging into her bottom lip hard enough to
draw blood, probably. She saw stars every time with him, and she
hadn’t even